


Catch the Best

by youmakemesoangry



Series: Make Your Mark [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6310960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmakemesoangry/pseuds/youmakemesoangry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But, how did they start?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch the Best

He’s a little annoyed, if he’s being completely honest. This is the third contact that has missed a meeting with him, and then has been reported missing and, subsequently, found dead in their house. He just needs a fucking contact in _something_ , for shit’s sake. 

He heads to this one’s upscale condo, and when he pulls into the driveway, he can see the police tape. It’s been a day or two and the cops aren’t really hanging around, so he ducks under the caution tape and makes his way through the foyer.

He finds the puddle of blood towards the corner of the otherwise pristine living room, and if he were any worse at what he does, he’d think that that was a sign that his contact was running. 

He looks around the room. No signs of struggle. He looks all around the hardwood floors near where the blood is. No scuff marks.

The man died quick and clean.

No matter what the police reports say, this wasn’t just a normal robbery turned murder. He makes his way to the bedroom, and sees the safe wide open. He walks over and sure enough, it’s a TL15 that takes an expert to break into.

No run of the mill burglar broke in here. And his contact wasn’t just collateral. He got his throat slit on purpose. Geoff makes his way back out into the living room and is just about to walk past the couch when he pauses.

There is an indent on the couch. The cops would have missed it, but Geoff knows upscale, stuck up people. People who live in places like this don’t sit on their ridiculously expensive couches. It’s a living room for show, so the robber must have sat there. Probably to look over what he found in the safe.

He didn’t even run. He knew he would get away before the police came. He knew that the alarm system wouldn’t have gotten tripped.

Geoff needs to find this guy.

A week later he goes to a new contacts house before he even has a chance to not show up. What he finds is a kid. A kid who doesn’t jump up and dash out of the house. Doesn’t pretend that there isn’t blood on his hands and, when Geoff walks past him to take a look around, that there isn’t his contacts body cooling in the garage between a Stinger and an Adder.

Geoff walks back to the living room where the kid is still calmly looking through his haul. He sits down in the chair across from the couch.

“You know who I am, don’t you?” The kid glances up once through his lashes, and looks back down. Geoff notices the gold watch on the kid’s wrist that, if the slight wear on it is any indication, is _actually_ the kid’s and not some rich asshole’s. 

He’s been doing this for a while. Geoff seriously needs to know who this kid is.

“Well, since you know me, and I personally know every single person you’ve murdered and robbed in the last 8 weeks, I think it’s time I knew who you are.” The kid puts down the jewelry, takes out a handkerchief, and cleans the drying blood from his hands. Who the fuck is this kid?

He stands up and reaches his hand across the glass coffee table for Geoff to shake. Geoff stands up and obliges.

“Gavin Free, procurer of fine goods from those who no longer have uses for them.” As they both sit back down, Geoff involuntarily glances over at the garage door.

“I don’t think it counts if it’s you who personally assures that they no longer have uses for their ‘fine goods’.” Gavin rolls his eyes, and starts putting the items in a black bag.

“Well now you’re just dealing with semantics.” There is a certain amount of attitude in Gavin’s voice, but his hands shake slightly when he ties the bag close.

“You’ve got my attention, kid. What is it you need?” Gavin stops, half standing up from the couch. He sits back down. They’re quiet for about a minute, before the kid cracks.

“I need a crew.” Geoff startles slightly. “I’m good at what I do, you know that. But I’ve got a lot of people looking for me, and, well. You’re Geoff Ramsey. No one messes with Geoff Ramsey.” Geoff is tempted to laugh about how many people do, in fact, mess with him, and how this is the second scarily efficient person who has decided that his ‘crew’ is the one they want to join.

“Listen, kid. I get it. It’s hard to lay low when the burglar business is booming and the rich keep getting richer. But I ain’t got a crew. I have no one.” Gavin seems to beam at that.

“The great Geoffrey Lazer Ramsey. Strikes fear in the hearts of half the city with no crew.” Geoff stiffens.

“How do you know that name.” Gavin smirks, stands, and gestures towards the door for Geoff to lead the way out.

“Like I said, Geoff. I’m good at what I do. Robbing houses wasn’t what I did until I came to Los Santos.”

Geoff heads towards his car and as Gavin gets into the passenger side, Geoff pauses with his hand in the handle. He sighs.

Well, he wanted a crew. Who said he got to _choose_ his crew.


End file.
